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Because I Have my "Plastic Jesus"

Updated on July 20, 2015
ocfireflies profile image

ocfireflies is a retired teacher. She graduated from Appalachian State University with a B.S. in English/Minor P&R.


When the weight of the rusty carriage finally eroded into nothing but eyesore, you had it hauled off.

I sat with my son, and his friends outside under a full moon sky

listening to them play guitars and sing songs

looking at their guitar cases and how each has its own set of stickers

such a cool and subtle way to show one’s self

And the voice of Spring?

A new friend I feel so lucky to meet

This girl can sing

So beautifully

So harmonically

So soulfully

A luminous rhyme

Golden keys every time

“Hello Darkness, my old friend, I’ve come to see you once again…”



Wrapped its poetry

Around my sunburned shoulders

“Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain”

Fell like raindrops fall

Down my cheeks

My “tenement hall”

The one from “Cool Hand Luke” about the “plastic Jesus”

I could see the cars with dashboards

rolling down backstreets in every town

“Me and Bobby McGee”

My favorite line ever: “…feeling as nearly faded as my jeans”

I miss those jeans. I still have them. And I will wear them again.

Until… I wear another pair, pull my hair back and wear glasses

As I am now a weed-eating machine owner and operator

Perhaps, no big deal to you or anyone else

But it is my awesome Mother’s Day Gift

A novice for sure because I can look all around and see patches

where I missed

I am convinced a secret dandy lion

lies in wait

blows me messages

little puffs of stuff in the wind

so that as night falls

“Hello [Nyquil] my old friend, I’ve come to see you again”

Still, there is light and time to do the walk around

Something, we always did together

You with a can of beer and me with my glass of wine

Stopping to pull up a weed by hand

Commenting on the status of the azaleas

Puzzling over why certain ones thrive

Before long, rakes and leaf piles

Clippers and lists

Twigs and branches

Roasting marshmallows over an open fire

But it’s just me now

I am doing okay

Thank goodness for friends

Because I clipped the ivy

I clipped it real good

So much so that when I picked up the root vine

A briar shoved its thorn into my thumb

Slashed the side

I know. I know.

I should have worn gloves.

Luckily, I have friends

who have no problem

sticking the needle end of a safety pin

into my thumb

taking a pair of tweezers and pulling that thorn out

like how you finally came and towed the rusty carriage

away -- even though you had promised

100 times before

Tells me

You are gone

Only rusty flakes remain

As I lie awake at night

I think of the weeds left to cut

And wonder how much time

Mama has left

Daddy says Hospice

Is set to come in

“Hello Darkness, my old friend”

Help me make it once again

Remind me to hold my head high

Show me how to fight the tears

Not to be afraid

Not to cry

Not to let those weeds

Choke my daisies

Or make my bleeding heart

Go crazy

Hold my hand

On this journey

Where it leads

I do not know

But it is okay

Even if it’s scary

I will keep

Keeping on

With another

Or all alone

For I have got my “plastic Jesus”

© 2015 ocfireflies


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    • ocfireflies profile imageAUTHOR


      2 years ago from North Carolina


      I did not know goldfinches like dandelions. Thank you for your sweet comments. It was a magical night. Thank You.




      How are you? Thank you for missing me. I have indeed missed my HP family. Your kind comments are so appreciated.



      PS--Continue to have computer issues, so if I disappear, it is because of tech probs.: (

    • word55 profile image

      Al Wordlaw 

      2 years ago from Chicago

      I am back again Kim, wondering where you are. It felt good reading this poem again. You are missed!

    • Mel Carriere profile image

      Mel Carriere 

      2 years ago from San Diego California

      Your poem touched my heart. Our souls are exactly like a weedy garden. We try to pull up all the weeds, but would we be natural creatures without a few dandelions in the lawn? We might as well get plastic grass, like a lot of people here in plastic California are doing. I don't pull all the dandelions out, I save a few for the goldfinches. Wonderful sentiments that I could really visualize and feel theough the power of your poetry.

    • ocfireflies profile imageAUTHOR


      3 years ago from North Carolina

      Genna and Shyron,

      Please accept my apologies for this late response and know that I will be back to read your work. Thank you for your ongoing support. So blessed to be among the company of such great writers and people.



    • Shyron E Shenko profile image

      Shyron E Shenko 

      3 years ago from Texas

      Kim, this is amazing and I love it. And the song. I know the melody, but never heard the words before.

      Voted up, UABI and shared

      Blessings and hugs.


    • Genna East profile image

      Genna East 

      3 years ago from Massachusetts, USA

      It is such a pleasure to read unique poetry that has been endowed with remarkable talent. You have this, Kim. What a gift!

    • ocfireflies profile imageAUTHOR


      3 years ago from North Carolina

      My Dearest Max,

      Where do I begin?

      What is what?

      When is when?

      Your words whisk me away with their flow and imagery.

      Thank You.


    • Max Havlick profile image

      Max Havlick 

      3 years ago from Villa Park, Illinois


      An American Sonnet

      . . . . . .

      To Kimberly, our friend, tragedienne, and lioness,

      who plays protagonist to problematic human pain,

      a feminine Prometheus, heart-broken, yet out-spoken.

      . . . . . .

      When life’s relentless agonies make other people speechless,

      her poet’s heart expresses and transcends the bitter pain

      by giving words to think and ponder what cannot be spoken,

      . . . . . .

      so even in our sympathy, while sharing in her sadness,

      we dig down deep to find and gird our will to live our pain,

      like watching Vachel Lindsay’s “bronco that would not be broken.”

      . . . . . .

      Our wrenching wounds reveal a world at first so flat and senseless,

      but human artists recreate the world to overcome the pain,

      alerting all of Nature to new possibilities of life awoken.

      . . . . . .

      The poet’s tragic pain prepares and then propels the well-trained pen

      that makes perceptive readers marvel at the “what,” and wonder “when?”

      . . . . . .

      Max Havlick

      Noon, Thursday, May 7, 2015

      Villa Park, IL 60181-1938

    • ocfireflies profile imageAUTHOR


      3 years ago from North Carolina


      I can't thank you enough for the support. Every time I publish a hub my scores drops which is really discouraging. So, when I receive encouragement from you and others, it helps me to ignore the score. Hope you had a wonderful day.


      Thank you for your kind words and vote. I hope you do get a chance to hear the song. Paul Newman sings it in "Cool Hand Luke" which is the more iconic version, but I felt I needed a female version for this hub.


      So good to hear from you and blessings always to you.


      As I mentioned to Faith/Theresa, receiving the kind words of my fellow hubbers helps to offset the disappointment of bringing down my score. My rational self knows it is just a "score," but when you are trying to get back in the swing, the dropping score really makes you wonder what you need to do in order to connect in a way that holds more regard from HP. Thank you for offsetting the negative with such positive and supporting comments.


      Thank you. I really appreciate your kindness. I do not know if I can really call myself a poet, but I sure do appreciate it when someone else says it as nicely as you.


      So good to hear from you. Thank you for reading and leaving such lovely comments.

      Blessings to all,


    • torrilynn profile image


      3 years ago

      This was very beautiful and i really did enjoy reading this poem.

    • suzettenaples profile image

      Suzette Walker 

      3 years ago from Taos, NM

      Well, life rolls on doesn't it despite what ceases. This is beautiful, Kim, and yes, you are such a talented poet. You can take the simple mundane things of life and make them so profound. This is brilliant.

    • billybuc profile image

      Bill Holland 

      3 years ago from Olympia, WA

      I am in awe of this kind of talent, Kim. I'm also speechless. So very beautiful. There are so many wonderful images in this goodness you are good.

    • word55 profile image

      Al Wordlaw 

      3 years ago from Chicago

      Hi Kim, I enjoyed the read here, this am. I see you have not lost your writing flare. Anything positive about Jesus is top notch noteworthy. Thank you so much for sharing. Love you always, word55. God bless!

    • Jodah profile image

      John Hansen 

      3 years ago from Queensland Australia

      I am not sure what to say Kim, but that I enjoyed reading this. Your hubs are so unique, very personal, and so well written. I love your poetry and have to listen to that song "plastic Jesus" by Tia Blake when my computer is working again. I only have an iPad at the moment and for some reason it's not loading videos. Take care. Voted up.

    • Faith Reaper profile image

      Faith Reaper 

      3 years ago from southern USA

      Beautiful beyond words, Kim. I am about to head out for the city to work, but I will return to enjoy this work of art when I have more time, but I wanted to go ahead and vote up ++++ tweet, pin, G+ and share

      Enjoy your day, beautiful one



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